


A Typical Saturday

by casual_distance



Series: Gentle Guidance [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Hook, Cock Warming, Come Eating, Dom Castiel, Facials, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Sub Dean, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7451116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casual_distance/pseuds/casual_distance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel always enjoyed quiet Saturdays, sitting in his favorite chair, a historical documentary playing on the TV, Dean on his knees naked, collared, and obedient (mostly).</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Typical Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SPN Kink Bingo to fill the square “anal hook”. My card can be [found on my tumblr](http://casualstories.tumblr.com/kinkbingocard2016).

This was Castiel’s favorite way to spend his Saturdays: curled up on the couch with a documentary playing while he doted on his husband. For this particular Saturday, Castiel had gone with a historical documentary. They were Dean’s least favorite in terms of subject, which meant that Castiel had Dean’s full attention. As he should.

Castiel ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, pausing occasionally to cup the back of Dean’s skull and drag his head forward, forcing him to take Castiel deeper into his throat. It hadn’t been easy for Dean, learning to accept Castiel’s cock this way, but if there was anything his husband loved, it was a challenge.

With a considering hum, Castiel muted the TV and looked down to watch his cock slide into Dean’s mouth, past those perfect lips. He loved how they looked like this, red and wet and stretched. Castiel gave a pleased sigh and let go of Dean’s head. Dean rocked back onto his heels, giving himself enough room to breathe around Castiel’s cock again. He looked up at Castiel, eyes hazy and warm with adoration.

Castiel smiled at him and pet his hair again. He pulled gently on the rope in his hand, adding pressure to the hook inside Dean. Dean’s eyes slid shut, his eyelashes fluttering wildly against his cheeks. He swallowed convulsively, his tongue working against Castiel’s cock involuntarily, but he didn’t make a sound. Castiel rewarded him with another gentle pull.

Castiel had chosen to insert the hook from the front today, only satisfied once Dean confirmed its steady presence against his prostate. He’d laced the rope through the D-ring on Dean’s collar but had foregone tying it off or even just looping it around the ring. As much as he enjoyed watching Dean fuck himself, he wanted control of Dean’s pleasure today.

“Good boy,” he praised when Dean kept his silence as Castiel pulled the rope again.

His smile widened as Dean shivered and inched closer, taking more of Castiel’s cock into his mouth voluntarily. Castiel scratched across Dean’s scalp with his nails and then cupped his cheek, running his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone. Dean opened his eyes and looked up at Castiel again.

Castiel adjusted his hold on Dean to press his thumb against the corner of Dean’s mouth. He slipped the tip of his finger inside Dean's mouth to add to the stretch of his lips, then added a second, pushing a little further in. Dean trembled, eyes rolling back, and Castiel knew he was remembering the way his hole had stretched to accommodate two cocks the last time they’d played this way. Castiel pulled on the hook and this time he held the pressure steady instead of releasing it.

Dean groaned, breaking the silence of the room. Immediately his eyes shot open, wide with shock. Castiel clucked his tongue under his breath. He slipped his fingers free of Dean's mouth and tapped him under the chin.

"Let go, Dean."

Dean withdrew with hesitation, his tongue dragging along Castiel's cock as it slid out of his mouth. He gave one last suck around the head before opening his mouth and letting Castiel's cock fall free. 

"Sit back," Castiel ordered. "I want to see you."

Dean pouted, but obeyed, shuffling back to sit on his heels, hands resting on his thighs. He spread his legs open wide so that Castiel could see his cock where it bobbed up from between his thighs, the shaft swollen and red, beginning to purple with Dean’s arousal, the tip gleaming wetly. Precome beaded at Dean's slit and rolled down the side of his cock. Castiel made a pleased noise as he followed its path, his eyes drawn even further down to where the hook disappeared back behind Dean's balls, the bend of it hidden in shadow. The throat of the hook pulled at Dean's groin while the shank ran up Dean's stomach. The rope stretched up from the eye of the hook to Dean's collar, holding it in place. Castiel tested the leverage he had when relying on Dean's collar, and found it was satisfactory for the moment.

"You will tell me if the pressure is uncomfortable on the back of your neck," Castiel ordered. Dean bit his lower lip but nodded.

"Good boy," Castiel praised. Dean's eyes fluttered shut, his chest puffing up. Castiel clucked his tongue in warning.

"Don't get too full of yourself, Dean. Remember that you have lost the privilege to taste my come tonight. If you push, you won't get to come at all."

Dean's eyes opened again and he relaxed back into a comfortable posture, no longer preening. Castiel pulled on the rope, holding steady pressure again. More precome beaded up and spilled over from Dean's slit. Dean bit his lower lip again as his whole body flexed with pleasure.

"You did better than I anticipated," Castiel said after a moment, eyes focused on Dean's cock, "given how much you enjoy this." Castiel looked up to meet Dean's gaze. He'd let go of his lip and was panting open-mouthed and desperate. HIs hands were fisted against his thighs. Castiel increased pressure slightly and Dean's hips rolled with pleasure.

"Is it better than my cock?" Castiel asked.

Dean shook his head immediately in denial.

"But you do enjoy this, don't you?"

Dean nodded. 

Castiel studied him, taking in the flush that colored his cheeks and ears. It ran down his neck and across his shoulders, making his freckles stand out. Dean’s nipples were hard and flushed, still a bit swollen from Castiel’s earlier attentions. He was so beautiful like this, the perfect display of Castiel’s passions and his own arousal.

"Play with your nipples," Castiel ordered as he stroked himself from the base to the tip and back again.

So focused on the movement of Castiel's hand over his cock the order took a moment for Dean to process. He glanced up at Castiel through his eyelashes before running his hands up his thighs, over his stomach- careful to keep away from his erection- and then up to his nipples. He ran his palms over them, rubbing them flat and hard before he took them between his fingers and rolled them. 

Dean's mouth opened in a silent moan, his head falling back. Castiel held the rope steady and let Dean's movements add pressure to the hook inside his body. He watched in approval as Dean's back arched. His hips rolled down against the hook, his legs spreading wide. Dean leaned back a little further, adding more resistance. Castiel narrowed his eyes and watched him carefully, but Dean stopped there, focusing instead on tugging and twisting his nipples, growing harsher as he grew more aroused. His hips picked up a steady rhythm against the hook, riding it as if he were riding Castiel's cock.

Castiel frowned, his own cock forgotten. He watched Dean writhe, let him roll his hips down a few more times, then released pressure on the hook so that it sagged between his legs, only the ball keeping it in place inside him.

Dean's hands spasmed, his hips stuttered, and he whined low in his throat, angry and upset. His head shot up so he could glare at Castiel, but his defiant expression disappeared as soon as he caught sight of the disapproval on Castiel's face.

He froze for a moment before his hands dropped to his thighs and he lowered his chin in deference.

"Dean, what were the rules for today?"

"No touching myself unless directed. No making any noise unless asked a question that requires a verbal response. You control my pleasure."

"Correct. And the consequences for disobeying?"

Dean drew in a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. Castiel reached out to catch Dean's chin and lift his face up so he could see Dean's expression. He gave in easily, raising his eyes to Castiel's without hesitation. He looked frustrated, but there was no angry disappointment that signaled a decline in Dean’s mood.

Dean held Castiel's gaze as he answered, "I don't get your come. I don't get an orgasm today. I have to watch a documentary of your choice without commentary."

"You have disobeyed me three times now."

Dean lowered his eyes.

"What's your color, Dean?"

Dean looked up at him again, a smile flitting briefly across his mouth. "Green," he answered.

"Are you ready to accept your consequences?"

Dean nodded.

"Good." Castiel leaned forward and rewarded him with a kiss. He let go of Dean's chin and pushed him back gently. "On your knees. Hands behind your back. You are to look at me at all times."

Dean obeyed, shifting into position. When he'd settled, Castiel asked, "Knees?"

"Green, sir."

"Very good." 

Castiel stood up from his chair, Dean's eyes dropping to his cock where it was still hard and red and now predominately in Dean's face. Castiel wound the rope around his hand, increasing the tension until the hook pulled snug against Dean's body. Dean gasped silently, eyes fluttering shut. He forced his eyes open to look up at Castiel before Castiel could correct him, his mouth dropped open, the glazed look settling back into his expression. His hips rolled abortively as he tried to hold still. Castiel smiled warmly at him and ran his hand through Dean's hair.

"Good boy," Castiel encouraged and Dean shivered. 

Castiel pulled on the rope. Dean's cock bobbed, precome beading again, but he made no noise. Appeased, Castiel started stroking his cock. Dean's eyes dropped down to watch, attention riveted to the long strokes of Castiel's hand over the shaft, the twist he added around the head, the short, sharp jerking movements he switched to as he grew closer to orgasm. Dean swayed forward, mouth parting. Castiel made a warning noise in his throat. Dean's eyebrows wrinkled, but he shifted back into position, shoulders flexing. He still hadn't looked away.

"Eyes, Dean," Castiel ordered when he felt the warning tightening in his gut and thighs. Dean looked up at him, then closed his eyes just as Castiel came across his face with a low groan. Come striped Dean's cheeks and neck, striped across his lips and his eyelids, dampened his hair. Dean trembled, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he fought to keep his eyes closed. He pressed his lips tighter together, and Castiel knew he was fighting the urge to roll them in or to part them and slip his tongue across them.

Castiel watched and let Dean struggle against his own desires as he caught his breath. Between his legs, Dean's cock was still hard and a dark purpling red, reflecting lamplight wetly as more precome dripped down his shaft. Castiel pulled on the rope, slowly adding more pressure until Dean's body was bowed under the pleasure. Just as slowly, he relaxed the tension in the rope until Dean’s body also relaxed.

"Very good, Dean," Castiel praised. He raised his hand to see that it was mostly dry. A line of come striped his forefinger. With a pleased nod, Castiel knelt before Dean, keeping his soiled hand held away from his body. He released the rope and used that hand to cup the back of Dean's head, directing him to raise his head and angle his face toward him. Castiel leaned forward to lick up a line of come from Dean's cheek. Dean's breathing sped up. He panted through his nose, but remained silent. 

Castiel cleaned Dean's face of his come, licking slow, heavy stripes across his skin. He left the come on Dean's lips until the end, rewarding Dean by immediately kissing him, slipping his tongue into Dean's mouth so that he could have a hint of what he'd missed. Dean's tongue chased his when he pulled away, but there was no frustrated whine despite the way his heaving chest betrayed the desire to. Dean was, however, glaring balefully when Castiel pulled away. Castiel smiled at him and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"You have a choice now, Dean, one I am allowing you because you accepted the consequences of your choices without complaint."

Dean frowned slightly but said nothing. Castiel carded his fingers through the hair at the back of Dean's neck.

"Your choices are these: I will make you come, but I will ruin the orgasm, or you can choose to not come and have this." He showed Dean his hand with the thin line of come, now mostly dry on his skin.

Dean swallowed heavily. He looked at Castiel's hand, then glanced down at his own cock. He shifted on his knees and glanced up at Castiel's hand again. After a moment, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around Castiel’s wrist, pulling Castiel’s hand to his face. He looked to Castiel for permission and only after Castiel had nodded did Dean run his tongue across the curve of Castiel's finger. He lapped at the come, and then at Castiel's skin, chasing the taste far after it had been licked away.

Castiel cupped the back of Dean's head. Dean stopped and pressed a kiss to Castiel's hand.

"Very good, Dean. You were so good today."

Dean made a face, but accepted Castiel's kiss, his fingers still tight around Castiel's hand. Castiel pulled away and reached down between Dean's legs. He traced the hook to Dean's rim, frowning slightly. Dean was still wet enough that Castiel could see why he hadn't paused their play, but he didn't feel comfortable with removing the hook from Dean yet. He pulled away, trailing his fingers over Dean's cock and earning a petulant frown.

"Hands and knees. Away from me," he ordered with a smile. 

Dean obeyed as Castiel reached back for the lube. He coated his fingers, then dripped some over the hook where it met Dean's body. Dean's slight shiver gave way to a full body shudder as Castiel pressed a finger into Dean's hole beside the hook. He worked his finger in and out, watching the flex of muscles in Dean's back. When he added a second finger, Dean's back bowed. He pressed his face into the carpet and fought to hold still. Castiel kissed the curve of Dean's ass and stopped teasing; he focused instead on working Dean open until he was satisfied he could remove the hook easily.

Dean sagged against the floor when Castiel pulled it free of his body. He rubbed his hands over Dean's thighs and back until Dean stopped trembling and pushed himself back up to his knees. He turned around, reaching out for Castiel. 

"Oh, beloved," Castiel sighed, rising to his knees to meet Dean and wrap his arms around him. "Color?"

Dean hesitated, but finally answered, "Green."

Castiel hummed and stroked his back. "Do you want to clean up?"

Dean shifted against him, rocking his hips side to side, testing the openness of his body and giving consideration to how wet he was. He shook his head against Castiel's neck. Castiel squeezed him in acknowledgement.

"Do you want the collar off?"

Dean hesitated again, a sign that he was more yellow than green and probably rapidly fading. Before Castiel could make the decision for him, Dean nodded and pulled back. He kept his hands on Castiel's shoulders, bracing himself as he raised his chin. Castiel unbuckled his collar and let it drop to the floor in order to catch Dean when he crashed back into Castiel's arms with a low groan.

"I'm so proud of you, Dean. How are you feeling?"

Dean shrugged. "Weird. That last bit..." He trailed off and sagged against Castiel.

Castiel hummed and pressed a kiss to Dean's shoulder. "Let's get you settled. May I clean up first or would you like me to wait?"

He could hear the click of Dean's throat as he swallowed nervously. "You can clean up. Just... don't go far?"

"Of course, beloved. Can you stand?"

Castiel helped Dean to his feet and wrapped a blanket around him. He settled Dean into the recliner and handed him a bottle of juice. A package of crackers sat on the side table.

"If you need them," Castiel pointed out, then ordered, "Drink that."

He shuffled around to pick up the hook and wipe it off with wet wipes, careful to not turn his back to Dean. He set it aside to be washed and sterilized later. He wound the rope up, and then set it and Dean's collar on the coffee table so that they could be put away properly later. Castiel returned to the recliner and helped Dean stand before sitting down and pulling Dean into his lap. Dean cuddled into him, tucking his face against Castiel's neck.

On the TV, a new documentary had started playing. Castiel unmuted it and watched for a moment before deciding it was acceptable. He settled back in the chair. Dean shifted around until he was comfortable. His cock was still mostly hard, but his erection was fading fast as his energy drained away. Castiel stroked and petted Dean, taking the bottle from Dean when he'd emptied it.

"Remember your last consequence," Castiel reminded when Dean's arousal had faded enough that Dean stopped fidgeting. 

Dean grumbled but turned his head to watch the screen. It wasn't long before Dean drifted to sleep, his face pressed against Castiel's chest, drool wetting his shirt, his snores loud enough to make Castiel turn on the subtitles. He supposed Dean falling asleep to the documentary couldn’t really be considered a consequence, but the heavy weight of his husband in his arms, trusting and safe and happy, was enough for him to not mind.


End file.
